


Truths of War

by DetectiveRoboRyan



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Death, F/F, Fluff, flowery language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-02 23:50:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4078630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DetectiveRoboRyan/pseuds/DetectiveRoboRyan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There will always be casualties in war, and yet, nothing is a guarantee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truths of War

Dragons don’t fall. Dragons never fall. Dragons can’t fall, it’s impossible.  
  
And yet, nothing was a guarantee in war.  
  
Maybe if she’d reacted sooner. Had all those years of sword training, honing quick reflexes and speed been for naught? Best in her field, her bad arm— for what good was all of that if she couldn’t protect what really mattered?  
  
All that mattered, crashing to the ground right before her.  
  
It had taken a moment to sink in. Say’ri couldn’t really believe it was happening, since it was impossible, right? Manaketes were impossibly strong fighters, that was how they’d survived so long, it was… simply inconcievable.  
  
Inconcievable, yet nothing was a guarantee in war.  
  
Say’ri, once princess, now the queen of what was once Chon’sin, had to laugh bitterly to herself at that. It’d been said so often, towards so many things, and now it was almost painful to hear. She had been doing a lot of laughing bitterly to herself lately, possibly because it was the only thing keeping her from crying.  
  
That must’ve been it, she reasoned. She must’ve reached that point where no amount of hopeless, gut-twisting tears could ever hope to be anything but a drop into an endless expanse. No matter how much she tried, nothing could hope to mend the crevasse torn into her psyche. Nothing except… well. It was unlikely that’d happen now.  
  
With her fingers twisted in the ties on her clothing to the point it hurt, it was easy to guess she was just sitting in the medical tent because of sustained injuries in the last battle— but she wasn’t focused on the scrapes on her hands or the gash on her forehead. She could be healed in a matter of minutes, no need for staves.  
  
She could wait. Tiki couldn’t.  
  
And while many would see her devotion to Tiki as a strong friendship, or a strong sense of duty, it was truthfully something different. Say’ri, now, would be proud, even honored to call Tiki a friend, but the more she thought about it, the less the term “friend” seemed to fit. Having fought together in countless battles, sat and talked together countless times, even as Say’ri promised to stand as a protector and disciple through anything they may face, the term “friend” was no longer adequate.   
  
Say’ri hoped no one expected her to be able to describe the term that was. She still wasn’t sure of what it was at all.  
  
It wasn’t nothing. How could it be nothing, when she felt a pang in her heart every time they spoke, when their eyes met? How could it, when at the sight of her lady lying prone on the oilcloth cot, she felt the rift inside herself grow even wider?  
  
She was resting now, that was what Libra had said. He didn’t meet Say’ri’s eyes when saying that— and she didn’t expect him to, the way he was, but the brief, sorrow-filled glances Lissa gave and how Maribelle refrained from any smart quips or curt tutting noises betrayed what Say’ri had feared.  
  
War made casualties, that she knew. She had been there when the war in Valm started, when her country burned to the ground and she could do nothing but watch as her people fled for their lives by boat and cart and on foot, however they could. She was a warrior— any battle, any moment could have her be one of the casualties. She had accepted this fully the moment she picked up a sword. So why couldn’t it be her? Say’ri wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all.  
  
But Tiki was resting.  
  
In her, especially now, that could mean she’d never wake up.  
  
“I’m not so fragile as that, love,” came a quiet mumble, making Say’ri lift her head and release the ties on her clothing, granting her fingers a welcome return to circulation. It could only have been Tiki, but Tiki also frequently talked in her sleep, as both Say’ri and the Shepherds’ tactician had found.  
  
Say’ri stood, her sword landing on the floor of the barracks with a clatter, and rushed to kneel at Tiki’s side in two quick strides with her face alight in hope. “My lady!”  
  
Tiki cracked a smile, her eyes opening a sliver and her hand reaching to touch Say’ri’s cheek. “You were worried about me,” she murmured, as Say’ri lifted her hand to rest over Tiki’s own and moved the other to comb strands of loose green hair out of her face.  
  
“I could never be anything but, with you like this,” Say’ri murmured back, letting out a breathy laugh that wasn’t really a laugh of humor, but one of relief. “I had thought I had failed… I had thought I would lose you.”  
  
“I could never allow that to happen while you still breathe,” Tiki replied with a sureness Say’ri wished she had, at this moment, feeling inches away from sobbing in relief. “Do not lose faith in a Manakete’s ability to heal, my love.”  
  
Say’ri shook her head, taking Tiki’s hand and kissing it, pressing her lips to it and holding it to her cheek. “Forgive me, my lady. You gave me quite a fright, on the battlefield.”  
  
A frown traced Tiki’s features, her brows furrowing in thought. “Yes… I recall that. It appears luck was on the enemy’s side, this time.”  
  
“A dirty trick, is what it was,” Say’ri snarled, her grasp around Tiki’s hand tightening. “I would have them beheaded for underhanded trickery, if this were Chon’sin. Catching you before your transformation…”  
  
“It was a miscalculation on my part,” Tiki finished, despite the noise of protest Say’ri made at that. “The soldier that did it is dead now, and the moment has passed. Do not let what could have been cloud your mind, love.” She gently pulled Say’ri closer and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, while Say’ri grit her teeth and looked away, anger etched across her features.  
  
Tiki let out a sigh. “Say’ri…”  
  
Say’ri’s ears turned pink, the way they always did when Tiki called her by name, but she didn’t look back. “They wounded you, my lady, they… they could have killed you.”  
  
“Say’ri, look at me.”  
  
Her voice was gentle, still the quiet murmur it had to be in the medical tent, but Say’ri couldn’t ignore it. She looked back to the woman on the cot, now turned a bit to the side to be able to look more directly at Say’ri, her eyes half-open but still as certain as her voice was.  
  
Say’ri sighed, her anger melting into a mixture of despair and worry. “They could have killed you,” she repeated quietly. “If I had been quicker, then maybe I could have stopped this, but as it is, I… it is all I can do to not lose you now.”  
  
“Say’ri…” Tiki trailed off, and Say’ri leaned forward to gently rest her forehead against Tiki’s, her eyes closing, trying to stem the inevitable flow of tears.  
  
“Do not say it is alright,” she mumbled, squeezing Tiki’s hand tightly. “I know it is not, I know it will not be until you are well enough to fight again, enough to know you will not fall. I swore, years ago when I first became a warrior, that I would use my sword to protect my home, my family, my comrades, and all I hold dear… And now that I have met someone who has become all four, I failed her.”  
  
There were tears running down Say’ri’s cheeks now, and she pulled in a shaky breath when she finished. “I failed you, Tiki,” she gulped, her hand shaking even though Tiki was holding it as tightly as she could manage.  
  
Tiki tilted Say’ri’s chin up and kissed her cheeks gently, tracing the curve of her face with her slender hand. “You could never fail me,” she murmured. “You are the reason I have lived this long, through this war. You have stood by my side tirelessly for what feels like an eternity, promised yourself countless times to be my protector, my constant shield, my friend, and even my lover, more recently. I am honored to have you by my side, as anyone would be.”  
 “M-my lady…” Say’ri mumbled, biting the inside of her lip. It sounded unpleasantly like Tiki was saying goodbye, with those words.  
  
Tiki smiled, tilting Say’ri’s chin up and kissing the bridge of her nose. “I love you, Say’ri,” she said quietly. “You have been through much, changed in ways that would have broken lesser beings. Never lose your hope, my love.”  
  
“I never can, not while you are with me,” Say’ri replied, rubbing her tears away for Tiki’s sake. “My lady, you… you must be tired. I should not be keeping you up.”  
  
“I know, I know,” Tiki murmured. “I am tired, Say’ri. I am very, very tired. But do not leave me, not now. I want… I want to be sure you are there, when I do sleep.”  
  
Say’ri bowed her head, then nodded, and kissed Tiki’s cheek gently. “Of course, my lady.”  
  
A little breathy chuckle came from Tiki’s lips. “I have lived a long time,” she remarked. “I have loved many, and I have lost many. I have experienced things many can merely dream of. You, for one.” She touched Say’ri’s face again, gently, almost reverently, which struck Say’ri as odd. Tiki had no reason to revere her. In Say’ri’s logic, it should be the other way around.  
  
But then, this entire situation should’ve been the other way around.  
  
“You have, my lady,” she agreed, gently combing strands of Tiki’s hair so they no longer obscured her eyes. “Many can only dream of being nigh-immortal.”  
  
“Nigh-immortal,” Tiki repeated. “How funny you said that… Say’ri, may I ask something of you?”  
  
“Anything, my lady,” Say’ri agreed. “What is it you wish?”  
  
Tiki shut her eyes and took a deep, slow breath. “Call me Tiki,” she whispered. “Just once more… I liked that.”  
  
Despite herself, Say’ri’s eyes were filling with tears again. “Of course… Tiki. I must admit, it feels a bit strange.”  
  
“Everything new does,” Tiki murmured. “And that is what life is for— getting used to new experiences and growing from them. Learning new things. Seeing new things. Freedom.”  
  
“Freedom, my lady?” Say’ri repeated.   
  
Tiki nodded slowly. “It is all anyone truly wants. All anyone can truly hope for, when they find their paradise.”  
 “What is yours?” Say’ri asked. “If I may ask, my lady… Tiki.”  
  
Tiki had to chuckle a little at that, opening her eyes once more to look at the woman next to her, the one who had always stood by her side. Say’ri had risen to her challenge of protecting the Voice with pride and valor, and gone above and beyond what her duty said to do. She stood by Tiki’s side as a guard and servant, but also as an equal, a friend, and Tiki’s own greatest love. Manaketes had time to love many people, Tiki thought, and that was why she had a lot of it to give. So she would give it, in any way she could, to those she loved.  
  
“You,” she said simply, kissing Say’ri’s lips gently and then closing her eyes once more, sinking into an unknown darkness with every breath she took.  
  
Yes, Tiki had lived a long time. Longer than many Manaketes, even. It felt fulfilling, somewhat, to die like any normal human would have— with honor, and with someone she loved.

**Author's Note:**

> Can I make people cry in 2000 words or less? Consider this the test. Also consider it two in the FUCKING morning and me the latest addition to the Say'ri/Tiki army. Also, expect more. I'm not saying "it's the lesbian apocalypse up in here," but... c'mon.


End file.
